


Stray

by The_Wonderful_Jinx



Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: F/M, Gen, Manipulation, One-Sided Attraction, Past Drug Use, Possessive Behavior, dark!strand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 09:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6233122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Wonderful_Jinx/pseuds/The_Wonderful_Jinx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He cares for his strays: his friends, colleagues, his confidants. And they care for him; always paying back a debt they all know can never be truly paid off.</p><p>Edited: 7-21-16</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stray

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post](http://ladyzadie.tumblr.com/post/140897334458/because-why-the-hell-not-got-any-more-darkstrand)

When Strand was a child, he used to take in stray animals. He always had a soft spot for them: those sad, droopy eyes that begged him for mercy from the elements always won him over, even in his worst of moods. He couldn’t put his finger on why he did it, even now as a grown man, but the concept of finding something broken, putting it back together, and having it unconditionally devoted to him always thrilled him. When he grew up, he moved on from animals to people. The logic still applied: show them kindness and they are yours.

After all, what really separates humans from animals?

The first human stray he picked up was when he was studying in Vancouver. She was smart –on a scholarship of some kind, he can’t remember- and pretty with hazel eyes, light brown hair, and an infectious smile that drew him in when they met in the library. Her vice was education, ironically. She was competitive and driven, pulling all-nighters and drinking tea whenever she could. She never could back away from a challenge that life threw at her, except for one.

They got drunk and they didn’t have protection.

He didn’t see her the day after that. Then it was two. Three. Then it was weeks and months. Eight months had passed when he got news of her. He had to threaten one of her friends to tell him where she was. (Her friend really should’ve made her cheating tactics less obvious). She was on sabbatical; she was pregnant. It was his. He was seconds away from buying a ring and taking full responsibility when the friend told him not to bother. She was planning to put the child up for adoption then come back to continue her education.

It took a few more weeks and more threats directed at her friends, but he managed to track her down. Just in time too, he found her in the hospital holding a bundle of pink blankets. He gave her a few seconds to tell him the name of their daughter (Charlotte, a respectable name) before he slammed down the papers that would give him full custody, but only if she signed them. She did, she didn’t need much convincing. She was smart until the very end.

She was the first stray he’d ever abandon. He promised to himself and to his child that it would be the last.

The second human stray he picked up was during his junior year. Charlotte (or Charlie for short) was one year old. He loathes admitting it, but he was at his wits end when he found Melissa. His grades were slipping, he couldn’t sleep at night thanks to the crying baby and nothing he could do seemed to calm her down, and he resorted to sleeping in class. The work just began to pile up and he couldn’t catch up. (Thank god money wasn’t an issue, but like hell he was going to return home with his tail between his legs and nothing to show for his work except an infant). Desperate to fix his schedule and to provide Charlie a better upbringing, he took a chance and put an ad out for a roommate and a babysitter. The next day, a tall, dark haired woman with wild -almost rabid- green eyes named Melissa showed up answering for both positions. He didn’t believe in magic or miracles, but Melissa nearly made him a believer.

She somehow managed to help him to raise an active baby, making sure it lived to see beyond infancy and toddler-hood. (She raised Charlie likes she was her own, only passing on her duties when he met and married Coralee after college. He asked Melissa to be Charlie’s godmother, she immediately agreed.) And at the same time, she was completing her double major (business and religion), cooking for three, working as a barista, cleaning, and making sure he didn’t slip in his studies. They graduated together with the highest of honors. Forged in fire, he was proud to call her his friend and willing to trust her with almost every secret he had.

He found out a few years later what exactly the secret to her success was; a cocktail she called amphetamines. He did what any good friend does, he paid her back. He found her a therapist, checked her into the best rehab facility in the city, and became the support system she needed. When she left rehab with a clean bill of health, he offered her a job to join him and his crusade against the paranormal. She accepted without hesitation.

Jenna was his third stray; an unassuming looking woman, pale blonde hair, medium height and build, but there was a hidden wisdom in her eyes and in the smiles she doled out. He met her after his first book was rejected for the umpteenth time. She caught him mumbling curses at the entrance of a big name publishing company. She took pity on him, offering him lunch, coffee, and half an hour for him to pitch his book. She was sold in five, and they spent the rest of the time lamenting the stuffiness of the publishing world, unwilling to take chances and risks on new blood.

Her vice? Money. Her publishing company was small fry compared to the sharks in the sea and those with better resources than her –i.e. more money- stole potential clients from her. She was left scraping the bottom of the barrel trying to make ends meet with supermarket romance novels and other genres that made them shiver. Living in the city was expensive, but he had plenty of money to spare. He gave her the manuscript, a small loan of half a million dollars, and the promise that if she kept taking his work, she’d make top dollar. She gave him her word that she will get him the attention and respect he deserved. She delivered. In one day, he became a success and the target of hate mail for every ghost-hunting hack in the country.

He trusted her, not as much as Melissa, but just enough that he could call her a friend. He found out early that his fame didn’t bring much company to the dinner table; she became a much-needed addition. Melissa, Coralee, and Charlie welcomed her with open arms.

And when his world came crashing down: Coralee disappearing (or running away, he claimed in a drunken stupor), Charlie disowning him, and the cops hungry to find an excuse to arrest him, Melissa and Jenna pulled rank and kept the wolves away from his door. They spent sleepless nights listening to him scream and lament for the life and family he lost and the troubles he inherited. They took his mood-swings and the increased workload with stride. When they felt he had done enough wallowing, they helped him back into an almost regular schedule. They opened the Strand Institute, and there he began his collection of black tapes.

Many years pass before he took in another. The fourth stray is a runt of a college kid named Ruby Carver who strode into his office like she meant to be there. She wanted to be an intern. She heard all about him, bought and read all of his books, and even attended all the lectures he’d given. She was willing to work, had the credentials -five letters of recommendations and a laundry list of talents- and she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Everything about her; her dark brown hair let carelessly loose, dramatic eyeliner and dark lipstick, and casual –it was the nicest word he could come up with at the time- attire of ripped jeans, sneakers, and shirts depicting the logo of a band he never heard of scream danger. While Melissa’s aurora of danger was reminiscent of sleek, stiletto daggers hidden in a Chanel pocketbook, Ruby was more akin to a sledgehammer: rough, crude, simple.  But he could tell with some proper training, she would be wonderfully effective. He hired her on the spot.

He was wrong about one thing, she was not a sledgehammer. She was a shovel, born with a remarkable knack for multitasking. She could research just as well as he could, keep up with emails and appointments, and keep out the press out just as well as Melissa. And she even possessed a talent no in the institute has. She could and was willing to get her hands dirty. With her grunge, college kid look, sharp tongue, and dry wit, Ruby could blend in with the crowd and ferret out info while he and Melissa –tailored suits, dresses, jewelry, and smug smiles- stuck out like sore thumbs. Ruby was worth her weight of her namesake. Though she was more distant, she was loyal, willing to be friendly when he needed her to be, and always seeking for his approval.

* * *

 

He cares for his strays: his friends, colleagues, his confidants. And they care for him; always paying back a debt they all know can never be truly paid off. But he admires their efforts, especially when it comes to Miss Reagan.

It’s a late night in Chicago. All four of them are gathered in his office, lounging in the old leather chairs, and breaking out the liquor he keeps in the cabinet. The mood is light and easy despite all the demons that creep around them.

“Strand, you incorrigible dolt,” Ruby says as she digs into a box of fried rice, “Just ask her out on a date already and call it a night.” He can always trust her to be up-front, brutal and blunt. Would if he could, he still needs to be subtle with his advances. He wants to woo and charm the podcast hostess, have her eating out his palm before he asks her to dinner.

“Or give her a gift,” Melissa chimes in as she compares the dates between two wine bottles. “And important files or documents don’t count! Nothing work related.” In the end, she opens both of them; know the bottles will be empty in the end. “I’m thinking something simple first. Chocolate! Nic says she has a sweet tooth that could put your caramel latte with extra whipped cream habit to shame!”

The last comment sends everyone into peals of laughter. Melissa hands out glasses of wine to everyone, somehow not spilling any wine on everyone with her full-body laughter. When Mel is seated, Jenna raises her glass. They do the same.

“To our lovesick boss!” Jenna cries. He groans, Mel and Ruby poke and tease him. “May he scrounge up the courage to ask Miss Reagan on a date and finally get laid!”

The women down their drinks and laugh again. He scowls, but a smile breaks through. He can never stay mad at them.

“May I remind you that I sign the checks around here?” he says.

“You wouldn’t last a day without us,” the three women retort. They’re right for the most part. It does make his work a hell of a lot easier with them around.

The rest of the night goes smoothly: the wine is delicious, the food is warm, filling, and unhealthy, and he is on the receiving end of every “schoolboy has a crush” joke known to his assistants. They plan and formulate ways for him to woo Alex; pick up lines, expensive gifts, lavish breakfast, lunch, and dinner dates, movies, and love poetry. It’s all discussed in good fun, but he takes note of certain ideas that appeal to his tastes.

“And hey,” Jenna slurs after finishing her second glass, always the lightweight of the group, “If that doesn’t work, you can always kidnap her!”

When their little get together ends and they all return home, Jenna’s words and the drunken laughter it elicited echo through his head as he tries to sleep. It’s drastic, it’s costly, and there are a million ways it can go horribly wrong. He’s not sure if they were encouraging him or merely joking -wine does that to people, even to the best of women. Still, he makes a note of it and files it away for reference.

He wonders if they _would_ help should he ask them to. He’s certain they would. They’ve done worse for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Now excuse me while I bury myself deeper in the trash bin that is now hiatus hell.


End file.
